


(I Put a Spell on You) And Now You're Mine

by ceilingfan5



Category: The Adventure Zone (Podcast)
Genre: Alcohol, Baking, Costume Parties & Masquerades, Engagement, Established Relationship, Fluff, Halloween, Halloween Costumes, Halloween parties, Kissing, M/M, Self-Indulgent, Shopping, close enough to canon setting, setting is modernish but lbr it's taz
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-24
Updated: 2018-10-24
Packaged: 2019-08-06 18:11:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,657
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16392614
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ceilingfan5/pseuds/ceilingfan5
Summary: Taako and Kravitz are enjoying the hell out of their first Halloween as fiances --Halloween shopping, baking treats, showing off, wearing terrible costumes, going to parties, getting drunk, and avoiding telling anyone that they got engaged. A celebration of romance and all of the best bits of Halloween through the lens of Taako and Kravitz checking all of the seasonal boxes, like making out behind the Orange Creme Halloween Oreo display in a fantasy Target.





	(I Put a Spell on You) And Now You're Mine

**Author's Note:**

> Halloween is the best, Taako and Kravitz are in love...it's simple math. This is very self-indulgent but I hope you love it too! Somehow I pulled out some writing for the first time in ages during Hell Week: The Fuckening, so I would really, really appreciate your comments! Let me know what bits you like or what you think or even copy and paste your favorite line!

Taako and Kravitz have a lot of differences, but if there’s one thing they agree on, it’s the best holiday. They each have their reasons. Candlenights is rough with and without family. Giving gifts can suck. Neither of them are traditionally religious. Halloween solves all of those problems and then some. For one thing, it’s not the anniversary of any particular atrocities. Not only is it the perfect excuse to dress up and be dramatic, it’s spooky and dark and the very beginning of cozy. There are bats and ravens and magic in the air and all kinds of treats and parties and opportunities to decorate and show off. Above all else, it just feels good. It makes them happy, and having someone to share Halloween with is just the right amount of crazy. Needless to say, they go overboard and then some.

 

As the month of Halloween begins, Taako makes them sugar cookies, perfect and sweet, and they turn out batches and batches of golden brown little shapes. A variety of cookie cutters made a ridiculous amount of bats, ghosts, haunted houses, cats, and other Halloween sugar objects, some conspicuously lumpier than others. As Kravitz waves them cool, Taako mixes up homemade buttercream (“royal icing is pretty but I hate eating it and it can suck my nuts”), then threatens Kravitz not to eat it all before it goes on the cookies. This, he says, licking both beaters at once. 

It’s delicious. Homemade buttercream is like a fucking cloud made out of perfect, and when Kravitz wrestles the bowl away from Taako, he eats three straight spoonfuls without breaking a sweat. Nevermind that it’s mostly straight butter.

“Taako,” he says. “Taako, it’s so fucking good.”

“Never buy a can of Betty Crocker again. Swear this to me.”

“Never, ever. I swear.” 

“Acceptable,” Taako says, like an anime villain. He begins to dye little bowls of different colors, making himself a whole palete to work with. “Now start decorating before we get sick from eating all that raw cookie dough.”

“Fuck yes,” Kravitz says, grabbing a bat-cookie and the grey frosting and the black food coloring. 

“Gods help us,” Taako says. But he decorates his own fucking cookie, because he can mind his own business thank you very much. 

Thirty minutes later, Kravitz has broken three cookies, said some very foul words, and has a mouth stained with black food coloring, lips, teeth, tongue, etc. He looks like a grumpy little possessed kid, hunched over the table and spreading frosting on with a little round cream cheese knife molded to look like a loaf of bread. The frosting is so black it’s leaching into his finger flesh and he’s got his grey tongue stuck out to help him “focus” on all the little pointy bits of his bat. Finally, after getting every little nook and cranny, he looks up to see just how well Taako is faring. 

And just about yells. 

Taako has almost finished one cookie. But it’s the prettiest damn cookie Kravitz has ever seen. It’s a haunted house, complete with delicate little windows with shutters, a lovely purple door, a house number (420), shingles, and lights on in the attic. Kravitz is overcome with emotion, swipes the cookie, and stuffs the entire thing in his mouth out of spite. 

Taako screams and lunges at him, bowling him out of his chair along with the very, very black frosting, as well as half of the accessories on the pumpkin-patterned tablecloth, and wrestles him to the ground in a shower of sprinkles and sticky reject cookies, one of which lodges in his hair. 

“Holy fuck, it’s so good,” Kravitz manages to get out, before Taako can choke him. “Your cookies are so fucking good, babe.”

“...Old family recipe,” Taako says, eyes narrowed, brushing cookie crumbs off his face.. “Your teeth are all dyed black.”

“I did it for art,” Kravitz says solemnly. “I wanted to impress you.”

“You’re full of dogshit,” Taako says, but he kisses Kravitz anyway. Smearing red and black frosting down his chest afterward is just a bonus. 

The next time they make treats, Taako demotes Kravitz to muscles and cleanup crew. It’s harsh, but fair.

 

“Look babe, it’s you. Do we need a skeleton bird?” Three aisles into the Halloween section of the store they absolutely didn’t come to grocery shop at, Taako holds up the nearest plastic prop and gives Kravitz a shit-eating grin. 

Kravitz frowns. “That’s not what bird skeletons look like.” 

“Don’t be a party pooper. There’s one over there that’s a spider skeleton, okay, I’m pretty sure they didn’t pull out an anatomy textbook and copy line for line.” He drops the bird in their cart and watches it bounce with no small satisfaction. “Shit, are those pump’ins wearing studs?” 

They are, indeed, black pumpkins with rainbow metal studs. 

“I think we need them.”

“Taako, as much as I admire fashionable pumpkins, the studs only go halfway down, and that, I’m afraid, is a Bad Look.” 

“Booooo,” Taako says, and pushes the cart onward. “Are we into like, the big inflatable yard dudes?”

“Mm, I don’t love the noise they make, but there are some interesting ones.” Kravitz turns the nearest box to inspect an enormous black dragon with tongue action. Eight feet tall and a price to match. Kravitz pulls his hands back. “They’re also kind of expensive.”

“Money is no issue for a celebrity such as myself,” Taako says. ”Do you like that nasty witch lady? Snoopy in a neat hat? Ghost Man?”

“I do like ghost man. He’s got panache.”

“Yell hes.”

Ghostman goes in the cart.

“Do you think he’ll be lonely?”

The dragon is stacked upon it.

The cart continues its slow procession up and down the halloween aisles, item by item. Already they’ve been to two other stores, and the entirely random mix of Halloweeny garbage in their car and home continues to mound. It’s hideously romantic, even though the cart with its drunken wheels makes it impossible to hold hands down the packed rows. 

“I think we need Halloween lights.”

“I think you happen to be correct.”

“Fuck, I’m so glad I’m marrying you.”

“Not as glad as I am to marry you.”

“Prove it.” 

“Don’t think I won’t. Shit, wait, fuck, there’s a store guy coming, look busy. Kravitz, less busy!” 

They duck into the next aisle and dump some cute party favors in their basket. Bouncy eyeballs. Spider slime. Slinkies that will almost certainly disappear into Taako’s office before they can be handed to party-goers. They wait for the guy to go past, not that he probably gives a shit. The second he’s out of eyesight, Taako pushes Kravitz against a wall of grim reapers and kisses his brains out until his head spins. 

“Our party’s gonna be dope as fuck,” Taako tells him, too-close and breathless. 

“Yeah,” Kravitz expounds, now wearing more purple lipstick than he happened to leave the house in. “Dope.”

They’re on a tight schedule if they’re going to make it to the thrift store before it closes. They get a few kisses in. 

Then costumes. 

“So, are we set on making our own?”

“Taako, we just spent three hundred dollars at Jo-ann’s. They’re going to look amazing.”

“Babe, I know that, and you know that, but I’m also looking at a hyper-realistic bottle of hot sauce and a taco costume, and-”

“Taako-”

“And it would be so fucking funny if you were the taco-”

“Honey.”

“And I was the hot sauce, because, I’m so hot, as you know, and-”

“Taako, I can’t return the fabric.”

“Maybe if we invited ourselves to more Halloween parties we could wear both?”

“..................................Taako,”

Taako puts the costumes in the cart. Kravitz is horribly embarrassed. 

They make out for twenty more minutes behind the spooky orange Oreo display. 

 

 

The next time he cooks, Taako waits until Kravitz is elbow-deep in sewing before he starts to bake and decorate. This time he pulls out all the stops, from adorable character cupcakes worthy of pinterest to a drool-tastic pumpkin cheesecake, spices wafting through the whole apartment. 

“Anything I can help with, babe?” Kravitz tresspasses in the kitchen, sucking a finger he’d no doubt stuck a pin in again. Taako should have budgeted less time for him to get frustrated. 

“Not on your life, cookie thief.” Taako dumps another bowl in the sink and starts digging for another one. “You’ll eat all my whipped cream.”

Kravitz’s heart soars. 

“You’re making your own whipped cream?”

“Of course, I’m not a fucking animal.” Taako wipes a bit of batter off of his cheek and ends up spreading it around. Kravitz is so, so in love. 

“I love you.” Sometimes it’s better not to mince words. 

“I know.” Taako grins. “You could wrap these little hot doggie dudes in dough. You know, like mummies.” 

“Of course, the traditional Egyptian way.”

“The only smart ass allowed in my kitchen is me.” 

“Oh no, I guess I’ll go...and leave you here, alone, with no one to compliment you...”

“Hmph.” Taako sets down his new bowl and crosses his arms. “Maybe I’ll give you a pass this once, if you butter me up more than you eat my butter.”

“I’m a man of many versatile skills, Taako. I can do both.” 

“Oh yeah?” He measures out more grams of flour and baking soda, still midway through his current frenzy. To, quote, show Janice at work what a real cook could do, with no help from shitty recipe magazines or pinterest, unquote. He was doing an excellent job, but gods knew how he was going to get it all to work, let alone when they’d go shopping for more ingredients before their own Halloween party. “How’s the sewing coming, then?”

“I thought there was a rule against showing up the host of a party,” Kravitz says, deftly avoiding the question, un-plastic wrapping the dough and rolling it out. 

“Only when the host is me. So, pretty good it does not seem?” 

And just like that, despite the barbs, they’re a tag team in the kitchen. Kravitz is hardly his most qualified sous chef, but he’s a lot more fun to hang around than some of the ones Taako’s had with better resumes. 

“No, no, it’s going to be fine, I just fucking hate sewing by hand. But my machine chewed up that material, and that’s all I have left, so it’s slow going.”

“We can skimp on the rhinestones, if they’ll be problematic.”

“Babe,” Kravitz says, only partially mocking offense. “I could never deprive you of your trademark sparkle.” 

“You’re so good to me, freezer hands.”

“Not so bad yourself, cooking mania.”

 

Everyone compliments Taako’s offerings at the party, even if the mummy-dogs appear to have dressed in the dark, and there wasn’t quite enough whipped cream on the cheesecake. 

 

 

The next big event of the season is Magnus and Julia’s Sexy Halloween Extravaganza. Julia refused to print invites that said “sextravaganza” because “it’s a sexy costume themed party, not an orgy, Magnus” and also because she didn’t think of it, so Magnus just told everybody he handed out the invites to instead. For this, at least, Kravitz is relieved to have the backup costumes, partially because he didn’t want to ruin chunks of their painstakingly appliqued costumes and partially because they still might not have been entirely, in every sense of the word, “finished.” 

The first goal when Taako and Kravitz get to the cabin is to bring in all of the platters of “spooky drunk people finger food, but make it fashion” that Taako made and Kravitz tried not to ruin, another flex of completely different themed snacks. After that, they were free to look around and be looked at. And fuck, what a variety of sights to behold. 

The two of them weren’t shabby to start with, Taako in his Hot Sauce with a saucy little cap and bright red artfully ripped tights, serious eyeliner, red eyeshadow, cheeks glittery and aggressively contoured. Kravitz was wearing the taco costume and little else besides fishnets, which Taako had, hardly breathing and doubled over from laughter, insisted he wear. Taako had done his makeup too, and it was simple, but certainly striking. He hadn’t escaped the glitter. Kravitz’s braids were up high, accentuated with a dollop of “sour cream” they’d made the 3am before last with foam caulking and a child’s headband, very much intoxicated. And both of them were wearing deadly heels. 

Almost everyone was drinking their second or third brightly-colored cocktail, and Kravitz happily accepted a green apple “zombini” before he continued the argument they’d started in the car. 

“Taako, I’m okay with being here, but I want to remind you that these are your friends, not mine.” 

“Oh, hush.” Taako nodded his head at Julia, who was a sexy werewolf, and Magnus, who was sexy-himself in a red leather jacket, leather pants, sunglasses, fingerless gloves, and nothing else. “Number one, a lot of them are your friends too. B, we’re not at a party of your friends because you don’t exactly have a whole bunch,” Taako took a pointedly long drink of the bloody margarita he’d acquired out of nowhere. “Not that I’ve met, anyway. And finally, all of them are totally willing to be your friends if you’ll get out there and do the damn thing.” 

Taako squinted at approaching Merle, aka sexy Kenny Chesney, sporting hand-puffy-painted “Is your tractor nasty” booty shorts and bedazzled white cowboy boots, and took a long enough drink his face double-soured with brain freeze. “I take that back, none of these people are my friends and I hate all of them for allowing this.”

Kravitz snorts, almost inhaling the gummy worm floating in his own drink. 

“It’s better than Poison Ivy last year, isn’t it?”

Taako covers his face (or pretends to, avoiding smudging his makeup) and moans. “Tell me when he walks away.”

“Aw, Krav, I’m flattered you remembered. You want a signed headshot?” 

“Walk away, Merle.”

“How about,” At this point Merle’s voice drops an octave and gets a whole lot slimier. “I play a song just for you?” He doffs his very large white hat and gives a dangerous grin. 

“Stop flirting with my FIANCE, MERLE.” 

“Ohoho! Fiance?? You went and did the damn thing, didn’t you?? Which one of you proposed?” Merle rubs his hands together like the villain in a gay cowboy porno and looks between the two of them, who have both gotten mysteriously shy. Merle winks and leans close to whisper in Kravitz’s ear, “Everyone’s been betting on when, and how, and where...Was it you?”

“None of your business!!” Taako screams, turing quite a few heads. 

“So it was you!” Merle cackles and slips him a card. “Let me know when you want the deed done, my friend. I’ll have your back.”

“Merle, we’re getting married, not murdering someone.” Kravitz tries to be serious, but his voice cracks when he gets to the ‘getting married’ bit and he has to bite his lip to keep from having some weird emotional reaction. “Taako, let’s. Uh.”

“Bingo, yes, right on the nose, you’re so right.” Taako puts his arm in Kravitz’s and scoots away as fast as they can in their terrible, terrible heels, leaving Merle cackling behind them. 

“It’s not as if it’s happening tomorrow,” Kravitz blurts, just as Taako says “It’s not that big of a deal, it’s just, you know-!” 

“They don’t have to make a whole thing of it!”

“Exactly! This is why we’re keeping it on the down-low-”

“Keeping what on the down-low?”

“Motherfucker,” Taako hisses, backing up as they’re suddenly flanked by the rest of the squad. He looks to Carey and Killian for help, but they’re too busy necking to be of any use. 

“Um,” Kravitz says, forgetting how to speak common. 

“They’re engaged!” Merle howls, appearing from nowhere to slap Davenport, in some sort of pirate get-up, on the shoulder. “Can you believe it! How much do you owe me, Redbeard?”

“I’m Captain Ahab, and I’m pretty sure I had the closest bet.” Dav puts his hands on his hips as if that will make him look more serious than amusing, somehow.

“Damn, you really went and did the fucking thing! I can’t believe, my own, darling, sweet little brother wouldn’t tell me...”

“Oh, you fucking wonder why?” 

“I’m so ashamed-” Lup throws an arm over her face as dramatically as possible, her sparkly red devil cape hitting Barry in the face. Mr. Bluejeans, much to Kravitz’s chagrin, is currently sporting a “sexy grim reaper” look, complete with gogo boots. Kravitz is having a fucking out-of-body experience. He can’t believe he agreed to come to this party. He can’t believe Magnus planned it. All of this seems cruelly intentional.

“We’re lucky they moved faster than the two of you,” Lucretia deadpans, “Otherwise we’d all have died first.” 

“Harsh, but true words coming from sexy Jeff Angel.” Merle responds, hanging his head almost as dramatically as Lup. “Whom I believe we all owe sixty gold.”

“Boo yah,” Lucretia says, and high-fives him without breaking eye contact. 

“I hate ALL of you,” Taako yells, turning wildly to include Sloane and Hurley, who watched the whole thing without intervention. Traitors.

“Not as much as you’re about to,” Lup says. “Cause this is officially now an engagement party, and we’re going to celebrate the fuck out of your love, whether you like it or not.”

Kravitz blushes clear to the bone as Taako continues to scream in embarrassment. It’s...weirdly sweet. In their own way. He never should have expected a group like this to have any sense of privacy whatsoever. Not after what all they’ve been through. 

It’s love. It’s all out of love, out of different kinds of love, of all these strange relationships they’ve picked up along the way. Kravitz has nothing like this, has never had anything like this, and he’s starting to realize just how lucky he is to have been dragged into it when Barry reappears, ghostlike, at his side, with two more cocktails. 

“You’re going to want this,” he says, like it will all make sense soon. “They take these things very seriously.”

“Thank...you?”

“No problem. I put an extra gummy eyeball in for you, on the house.” Barry sips his own cocktail and watches Lup and Magnus wrestle for the right to light the candles on the Halloweengagement cake. “You should have seen how they acted when Lup and I finally got together.” 

“Mm,” Kravitz says, not sure how to react to the statement or the slimy texture of his drink. 

“Congratulations, though, man. I’m really happy for you. I’m glad Taako found someone that can treat him like he deserves.”

“Yes, yes, and if I don’t-”

“I’ll torture every last gram of the remnants of your original mortal soul, yeah.”

“Neat.”

“It’s what friends are for.”

“I’m starting to figure that out.”

They watch, silently, as Lup sits on top of Magnus and screams her victory. The other ladies cheer in her honor until Magnus sneak-atickles her so hard they’re launched into another round, a dirty-fought tag-team disaster that ends with most of them laughing themselves to tears. 

“Do you love him? Really love him?” Barry is so serious that it catches Kravitz off-guard, and he almost swallows the gummy eyeball whole. “I need to know.”

“What? Of- Fuck- Of course I do. I love him more than- Shit, Barry, I don’t...I don’t have words for it. I haven’t felt so...don’t laugh at me.”

“No promises.”

“Bastard.”

“Noted.”

“I haven’t felt so alive in hundreds of years. Taako...he surprises me. All the time. Like-” Kravitz makes a sweeping gesture at the party, where Taako has been coerced into giving all of the details in return for being heavily complimented on his choices and tastes. Getting over his embarrassment, he’s well on his way to commanding the room with his tall-tales and grand personality. Kravitz aches to kiss the hell out of him. “Look at him. He completely reasserted control in nothing flat. He’s...amazing.”

Barry nods sagely. 

“And he’s gorgeous, I mean. You’re with Lup, you know. Even. Fuck, when he wakes up and his hair is a mess and he’s got makeup smeared all over and he looks like hell, he’s still so fucking glamorous, I can’t stand it. He’s perfect.”

Barry laughs. 

“How do they do it? It’s impossible. They’re so fucking good-looking.” 

“I love him so much. I love...every bit of him. Okay, this drink is pretty strong.”

“You’re welcome.”

“But. Whatever. I was nervous at first, but. It’s almost a relief? Dating is- don’t look at me like that. Dating is terrible. I didn’t even go into this with the intention to date Taako, and he took over completely, you know? I was trying to hunt him down, and then suddenly we were an item. And now I get to be with him….forever. And I want it? I want that so much. It’s. It’s an unbreakable vow, Barry. It’s. It’s so big. I’m scared? Terrified. But also...it feels like home.”

Barry nods. 

“It’s not like anything else. I’ll tell you that. It’s a complete evolution of your individual reality.”

“Yeah?” 

“And you’re never going to have enough personal space again.”

“I think that’s a decent trade-off. I’m going to go kiss my fiance.”

“You go for it, man.” Barry grins and takes the empty glass off his hands. “Nothing else is going to shut him up.”

“I would never,” Kravitz declares magnanimously, before hunting down his man and a bathroom to smooch him in.

Everybody gets very, very drunk. Everybody eats a horrible amount of candy and takes blackmail-worthy candid cryptid pictures and tells stories all night about Taako and Kravitz, most of them about them not being subtle in the slightest. Kravitz gets over his self consciousness and uses the opportunity to grin like a fool all night at Taako, who uses it as an opportunity to sit on Kravitz’s lap in public. They get a few jeers for pda, but almost no one at the party has any room to talk, including Lucretia, who mysteriously ends up with quite a lot of the silver body paint from Carey and Killian’s robot costumes on her.

Kravitz’s last rational thought, as his very drunk head finally hits his pillow, his legs jello from walking home from Magnus’s house and carrying Taako most of the way, is just how foolish he was to insist that those people weren’t his friends. Sure, he didn’t know them very well, but no group of people, especially not one as strangely diverse and shameless, had ever taken him in so fully or quickly. They accepted him in nothing flat, celebrated him, adored and loved him, just because he was with Taako. 

When a person is lonely for centuries, he thinks, his drunk mind philosophical and loosely connected, it’s hard to realize just how lonely he is. It’s not until he actually meets someone that it becomes clear. He remembers Taako saying “no one else would have him” and feels a stab of hurt, before realizing just how untrue that really was. Taako is loved, so loved, and so deeply part of this strange little family. Kravitz is just being welcomed into it too. It feels good. It feels right.

It’s pretty fuckin sweet. 

 

 

The final and most important event isn’t Kravitz and Taako’s Night of the Living Halloween Party to End All Parties, even as much fuss and preparation and planning as it takes. Taako’s food is, of course, to die for, and Kravitz’s handmade costumes, a high-fashion plague doctor for himself, ball-jointed doll in a stunning gown and unnerving makeup for Taako, complete with corset (which, yes, he did end up buying after injuring himself on the steel boning twice), are complimented by everyone who attends. Their pictures even trend on all of Taako’s social media accounts, from them posing together at the heavily decorated doorway of their heavily decorated house, to the dry ice effects at the packed dinner table. But all of that was nothing compared to the afterparty, where they got to take off all of their many, many layers of clothing and lay on the couch together, spooning and eating leftover dip and laughing tipsily about all of the nonsense and hardship they’d endured for the Perfect Party. 

They’d checked all the boxes, attended all of the events, worn all the costumes, watched all the movies, eaten all the treats, pleased all the trick-or-treaters, impressed all the guests, and now, they were worn out. A different, quieter feeling hung in the air, one of urgency satisfied. They were free, and now they finally had time to stop and soak it in before November happened, with its drastically less interesting holiday and slow descent into madness/Candlenights. Until then, this bubble of satisfaction was suspended in time for them to enjoy, together, for exactly what it was and not what everyone expected it to be. It felt good, and private, and perfect, worth the wait, yet still tender and rare. They’d really worked themselves to the bone for a month. 

“‘M gonna fall asleep right here,” Taako mumbles, snuggling into Kravitz’s arms, his doll paint at odds with the over-large band t-shirt he was wearing. Kravitz really had to admire his setting spray. “Too much.”

“What, to drink?

“Mmm, everything. Everything is so much?”

“No kidding.” Kravitz himself yawns, turning off Hocus-Pocus and tugging the blanket up over them as best as he can reach. “Think we did good enough?”

“Hell yeah,” Taako says, voice rough with sleep and too cute for words. Kravitz’s heart expands ridiculously in his chest. “It was perfect and everybody was impressed with how great we are, natch.”

“Just think. Next year, we’ll be, you know. I mean. Next Halloween. We’ll.”

“Yeah,” Taako whispers, a smile audible even though he’s on top of Kravitz in an awkward position. Kravitz has no intention to move. Taako’s weight on him is terribly comforting to his drunk and romantic senses. “We’ll be...”

“Yeah...”

“Taako, do you-”

“Don’t get philosophical on me.”

“Do you think we’ll be ready?”

“No way, man. Nope. No how.” He pauses for so long Kravitz wonders if Taako’s fallen asleep mid-thought. But after quite some time, he continues: “But I think we should fuckin, fuckin go for it anyway, yeah?”

“Yeah,” Kravitz says, unbearably soft. “Yeah, I agree.”

“Like. It’s. You know. We could, fuckin, elope, or whatever, and it wouldn’t matter. We’ve already. Like. We, you know. We lived?”

“Yeah?”

“We lived through the end of the world-”

“Sort of? Speak for yourself.”

“And like, why drag our feet now? My sister-”

“Yeah...”

“Forever, I swear to god, she took a literal forever, and that shit was painful? She’s, I love her but that was the dumbest thing I’ve ever seen in real life, you know, and like,”

“Yeah...”

“Like, if it doesn’t turn out good, we’ll figure that shit out when it happens. But we gotta, ya know, ride this wave while we got it.”

“Mmmm….mhm.”

“Fuck.”

“Yeah. Yeah, you’re right.”

“I’m always right,” Taako says, drowsily, and he tugs the blanket into a better position. “I hope you’re ready to sleep here cause Taako is out for the night, baby.”

“I am so ready to not be conscious, Taako, bring it on.”

Taako giggles, silly and sweet and a little strange, and the last thing Kravitz thinks of on the last part of the last day of the month of Halloween is just how in love he really is. It’s a lot, overwhelming and perfect at the same time, just like the weight of Taako on top of him or their piles of Halloween decorations or Taako’s platters of showing-off food. This is them. 

And it feels like home.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! Let me know what you think and have a Happy Halloween!!
> 
> Did you know that the line "AND NOW you're mine" is specific to Hocus Pocus? The original (1956) version of I Put a Spell on You goes "because" you're mine................but the Hocus Pocus version is the best.


End file.
